


Controlled Burn

by bearonthecouch



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Boys Kissing, Established Relationship, Feelings, Ishval Civil War, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Protectiveness, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 04:05:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15622152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearonthecouch/pseuds/bearonthecouch
Summary: “I kissed you.”“Because your girlfriend’s not here?”“No, Roy. Because it’s you."





	Controlled Burn

**Author's Note:**

> controlled burn: a fire intentionally set to prevent the spread of a dangerous, uncontrolled larger fire

“Roy! Hey!  _ Mustang _ !” 

Roy stops. He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t say anything, just  _ stops _ , hunched in on himself, uncertain as to whether he’s trying to hide or trying to protect himself. He takes a breath. “Hughes…” he says cautiously. 

The other man laughs, sending a flicker of warmth through Roy’s belly, an echo of someone he used to be. Hughes claps his hand on Roy’s shoulder, and Roy glances at him out of the corner of his eye, and he’s  _ smiling _ . “Good to see you, kid.”

“I’m not-” Roy starts to protest, out of long habit. He bites his tongue before the words even finish forming, and shakes his head. “It’s good to see you, too,” he says quietly, and it  _ is _ , but he doesn’t want to be here and he’s afraid of what this place has turned him into, and he doesn’t want Hughes to see him like this. How is he  _ smiling _ ? He looks tired, covered in sand and grit, and he’s  _ bleeding _ , a cut over his eye, hastily bandaged with a butterfly closure, and not well enough. Roy frowns. He reaches up to press his thumb against the blood before he can stop himself.

“‘s’fine, Roy. It’s just a scratch.” 

“If you say so.” 

“God, you look like hell, Mustang. I’m more worried about you.” Roy just shrugs. Maes’ eyes find the chain at his hip, and he punches Roy in the shoulder, a gesture of pride. Roy winces. “State Alchemist, huh? Good for you.” 

Roy nods. He tries to smile. He  _ wants  _ to be happy. Hughes is happy. 

Hughes takes one last, long-suffering look at him and then he’s dragging him by the forearm through the camp. “Sit,” he orders, as they approach a stack of supply crates near the barricade. Roy sits. Hughes sits next to him, and the crate is large but not so large that the two of them aren’t touching, and Roy is aware of the heat of Hughes’ body against his. Hughes puts his hand to Roy’s cheek and then his lips are on Roy’s and he tastes like the desert, like sand and like blood, but somehow underneath all that he’s still  _ Hughes _ , and Roy closes his eyes and exhales. He feels like he’s breathing for the first time  _ since  _ the first time he snapped his fingers to kill. 

Hughes breaks away, breathing in and out, a little ragged, that same glint in his eyes from their days at the academy, and he runs his head through messy hair and shakes his head. “Fuck, Mustang,” he announces. “I’ve missed you.”

“Hughes, I can’t…” 

Maes stiffens. But then he nods. This isn’t the academy. They’re officers now, and Mustang’s a  _ Major _ , and if this gets found out, they could be court-martialed. “Right,” he says, trying not to sound disappointed. Mustang’s always been the rational one between them. “I understand.” He starts trying to stand up, but then Mustang grabs his wrist. 

“Stop,” he begs. And Hughes could never resist Roy, whenever he asked for something. No matter what he asked for. Hughes can  _ hear  _ Roy swallowing hard, and when he turns around Mustang’s dark eyes are like bottomless pits of guilt and Hughes just sighs. “I didn’t mean… it’s not like that. I don’t care what Command thinks. Honestly, if it’ll get us sent home…” 

“Doubt it. Not you anyway.” 

It’s the first time Roy’s seen the smile falter, the first time he’s heard the bitterness seeping into Hughes’ voice. 

“Maes…”

“I have a girlfriend,” Hughes blurts out. Roy frowns. “Gracia.”  
  
“That girl you met at graduation?”

“She sends me letters all the time.” 

“You kissed  _ me _ , just now.”

“Because you look… lost,” Hughes admits. “You look like this place is swallowing you, and I’ve never been able to resist those pathetic puppy-dog eyes you have.” 

“Hughes,  _ stop _ .” 

And he does. He stops. He stares at Roy sitting on the crate looking lost and pathetic and helpless and a low growl starts at the back of his throat, animalistic and terrible. And it terrifies Roy to hear Maes sound like that. 

“How long have you been here, Mustang, a month? Less than that? I’ve been in this hellhole for  _ over a year _ , dodging bullets and bombs and watching good people die, and are you aware that I’ve been promoted three times because the Ishvalans aren’t  _ stupid  _ and they target anybody with stripes!  _ You’re _ supposed to be the fucking cavalry, Mustang. The mighty State Alchemists, here to save us all.” 

Roy meets his eyes, shakes his head. His gloved hands clench the edge of the crate and he can’t fight the memory of the flames they’d sparked just an hour ago. “Fuck you, Maes,” he says quietly. Fuck you for blaming me. Blaming me for you being here. Blaming me for  _ me  _ being here. 

At the academy they laughed and got drunk and slept in each other’s arms and Maes pulled pranks while Roy served as lookout and distraction, and in their rare serious moments, they talked about protecting Amestris, serving their country, keeping people  _ safe _ . How could they have anticipated  _ genocide _ ? 

And Hughes seems to deflate, as Roy watches. He sags onto the crate and then Roy’s wrapping his arm around Hughes’ shoulders, and Hughes lays his head on Roy’s shoulder and mumbles an apology. “I’m an idiot, Roy,” he says.

“Yeah. But you’re my idiot.” He pulls away a little, but Maes twists to look at him, and Roy meets his eyes, trying to get a read on this new situation. “I mean… you have a girlfriend?” 

“I kissed you.” 

“Because your girlfriend’s not here?”

“ _ No _ , Roy. Because it’s  _ you _ , and I… when I can’t sleep at night, it’s not Gracia I’m thinking about, it never has been. It’s always been you.”

“Maes…”

“I hate it here, Mustang. Every morning, I wake up, and I’m sure I’m going to die.”

“I won’t let you die.” Roy puts his hands on either side of Maes’ head, draws him down, kisses him. Their fight for dominance, nipping and pushing their tongues into each other’s mouths and just barely coming up for air and then Maes has his hands under Roy’s shirt and Roy slides his hand down Maes’ back and comes to rest just above his ass. 

They’re breathing heavily, in tandem with each other, when Maes grins at Mustang and starts laughing. “You won’t  _ let  _ me die,” he repeats, disbelieving. 

Roy shrugs. “Well, it’s like you said,” he mutters. “State Alchemist. Cavalry. Here to save your ass.”

“You’re unbelievable.” He pulls Roy onto his lap and kisses the back of his neck until he’s squirming. “I’ve heard stories, you know? That fire trick’s new.”

“Yeah.” 

“Roy…” 

“Hughes, I don’t wanna talk about fire, okay?”

“Sure. Whatever you want.” 

They sit in silence for a long minute, Maes’ clever fingers finding all of Roy’s favorite spots. 

“Let’s go back to my tent,” Roy finally says, as Maes starts trying to nibble at his ear. 

Maes grins. “Took you long enough, Mustang. I thought you’d never ask.”

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
